


What is the point of an umbrella?

by which_chartreuse



Series: They Only Walk When It's Raining [1]
Category: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, Comfortable Tension, Crossing paths, Does this even count as fanfiction?, F/M, Familiar Tension, Gen, Gentle, Having a Couple of Moments, Having a Moment, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Titles, Implied Relationship, Observations, Rain, Savoring the Details, Semi-sweet, Sharing an umbrella, Short and Semi-Sweet, Smoking, Tagging is stressful, Tags Are Hard, Umbrella, Vignette, familiarity, friendly - Freeform, implied past relationship, non-verbal communication, soft, subtle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25435318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/which_chartreuse/pseuds/which_chartreuse
Summary: Long, lingering looks. They've had the exchange before -“You're staring...”“So are you..."- and it goes unspoken now.---Our favorite star-crossed comics share a fraction of an evening.(And I fail to come up with a good title)
Relationships: Lenny Bruce (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)/Miriam "Midge" Maisel
Series: They Only Walk When It's Raining [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020376
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	What is the point of an umbrella?

**Author's Note:**

> If you are interested, the soundtrack for this piece was "RAINING IN M I A M I (Lofi HipHop)," by the bootleg boy on YouTube (minus the first song). This can be read as within the Colors of Laughter universe, but it is not necessary to have read the other pieces to understand and enjoy this one.  
> 7/22/2020 - Very small edits for clarity and added more tags.  
> Thank you for reading.

She likes the way he looks at her. She likes to be looked at, but the way he watches her, the way he leans against his hand, hiding the lift of his lips behind his fingers, does something more for her.

Long, lingering looks. They've had the exchange before -

“ _You're staring...”  
_“ _So are you...”_

\- and it goes unspoken now.

But there's that distracted feel about him, and she is the distraction. It sends a gentle thrill up her spine to know it. Raises bumps all along her bare arms, and she turns away to suck her cigarette and tap the ash as a means of escaping his gaze. Rubbing an absent-yet-purposeful hand over the psychological chill in her skin.

The quiet used to be so tense between them. She still feels it, the way they fix on each other from across a room or a table or a gap. It still raises her pulse, raises her imagination. But it's a sensation she enjoys now. It's a place she doesn't mind lingering. She doesn't fear it anymore.

She knows enough of him to know the ways the tension could break.

She smiles around the cigarette before stubbing it out and reaching for her jacket. He rises with her, and takes the jacket and holds it for her as she slips her arms into the sleeves. He follows her to the door, and they watch the rain come down.

She turns her smile on him and the look that passes between them says more in a moment than a whole evening of humorous patter could ever have.

He hands her the umbrella -

“ _Bring an umbrella...!”_

\- and turns the collar up on his topcoat.

She holds the umbrella high, high enough to cover both their heads, though the shoulders of their coats begin to collect moisture, and they move briskly to the corner. Then the next. Then the next.

They pause under the sheltered entryway of an apartment building and they're both soaked, though her hair remains perfectly coiffed. The shiver that rocks through her has more to do with the cold and damp than the look he gives her, but she laughs and smiles anyway when his hands come to her arms and rub vigorously.

She watches him catch her smile and savor it. Can't help but stare at the lift of his lips for the moment that passes before she catches herself. He notices, and his tongue swipes over his lips before he's laughing and sighing, too...

They dash for the corner and pause again, balancing beneath the umbrella at the split streets. He eyes her, and the look is the same as it was at the door. He leans down and catches the corner of her mouth with his one last time.

“'Night, Miriam,” he says.

“Goodnight Lenny,” she whispers back.

He lingers for a moment, as though considering, then ducks out from under the umbrella and strolls away in the rain.

She turns and heads the other way.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in late May, on a rainy day, right as the country was beginning to ignite. It has been a chaotic time, and nothing I have written since has felt quite right.  
> It rained for a little while again today, and I decided to pull this up. I feel simultaneously as though I am completely detached from the creation of this piece as well as entirely present within its scenery and emotions and observations when I read it. I am finding comfort in the familiarity of my own favored details, and I am letting that be a good thing. I don't know why society has made it so difficult to feel proud of what we do without feeling guilty...  
> Anyway, I hope you found something enjoyable here, however humble my offering.  
> Thank you very much for reading. Take care <3


End file.
